The Back Road
by TallulahBelle
Summary: <html><head></head>Stories from childhood claimed that monsters lived behind the Cullen Estate's tall walls, so we avoided the back road which passed it. One day, I had to take the road and met one of the Estate's occupants to find no monster but someone extraordinary.</html>
1. The back road

**Twilight belongs to SMeyer**

**Thank you to ScarlettLetters and Spanglemaker9 for pre-reading, letting me know that I wasn't insane.**

**Also, much love to Cher for taking the time out of her busy schedule to beta this for me!**

-O-O-O-O-O-

I hated having to take the back road to walk home from school as it meant that I had to pass the creepy Cullen Estate along the way. It always gave me the willies with its tall, imposing stone walls that reminded me of something out of a ghost story.

The recent storms in the area had left large pools of muddy water on the main roads into town, making it dangerous to travel by foot, carriage, or those new motorcars. Father told me that morning to take the longer route as it was drying out and posed less of a threat for getting hurt along the way to school.

In the morning it was fine as some of the other students walked with me, but in the afternoon I stayed behind to finish my math equations, so I was on my own to walk back to the main part of town.

The dirt and grass-flattened road had dried some more since the morning. The sky was turning back to a clear blue, and the birds were becoming more vocal as they returned to their daily lives. I took some comfort in their song as I rounded the path, leaving the safety of the schoolhouse.

As I neared the first corner of the vine-infested wall, I started to whistle along with the birds, hoping to scare off the scary thoughts in my head. Stories from childhood tried to wiggle their way into my head, most of them in the tone of Michael Newton's voice as he tried to scare us during lunch with tales about what lived behind those walls.

I countered with Father's words of the Cullen family being private people. That he had met them a few times in the general store or assisted with large deliveries to their estate. Feeling relieved, I started whistling again, walking swiftly along the road lined with trees on one side and the high wall on the other. My fear lessened as the last of the wall loomed ahead and the road meandered away from the unnaturally quiet area.

Sighing with relief, I practically skipped to the end but was caught up short when I heard a new sound. I froze where I stood, not sure what I was hearing, as it didn't sound like a bird.

The odd warbling noise was like nothing I had ever heard. It sounded as if it was coming from the vines. Without thinking, I stepped closer to the wall, pressing my ear to it, trying to get a better listen.

The noise suddenly stopped and everything went still again until I heard a masculine voice from above me.

"Hello."

Startled, I stepped back and looked up to find a young man sitting along the top of the wall watching me.

I stepped onto the road, backing away slowly, suddenly feeling how alone I was in the woods with the sudden appearance of the man.

The man jumped down on my side of the wall but stayed next to it, holding out an entreating hand towards me. "It's alright. I didn't mean to scare you, Miss."

I was able to get a better look at him and wasn't sure if what I was feeling was fear or awe at his appearance. He was very handsome, more so than any man I had ever met, including cousin Rose's husband Emmett. His hair had flecks of gold woven in with shades of auburn and copper, eyes that matched the green of the forest surrounding us, and a lean but muscular frame that spoke of strength.

"Please let me introduce myself. My name is Edward Cullen. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" he asked formally as he bowed at the waist, a smile playing at his lips.

Stunned, I stood rooted to the road unable to decide what to do.

_Do I run? Father was adamant about not talking to strangers…but he's a Cullen. I had always wanted to meet one of them. I hadn't heard anything bad about them._

"Cat got your tongue?" Edward teased with a bewitching smile.

"I-I…" I started but was interrupted by hearing my name being called. I twisted around to see Michael Newton running along the road from town, bull-like in motion.

"Bella! Your father asked me to find you and escort you home," Michael said, slightly out of breath as he came to a stop next to me.

"Bella…" I heard Edward say reverently, catching both my and Michael's attention.

"Who are you?" Michael demanded harshly, pushing me behind him and puffing out his chest in his attempt to intimidate Edward. Michael was shorter in height, but he was much stockier and solid. I'd seen him in a fight when we were younger and knew how quick his temper was, not to mention how readily he would use his fists rather than reason.

A chill ran through me, feeling fear for my new acquaintance.

"Michael, it's nothing. Let's go back to town-" I cajoled in the most calming voice I could manage, trying not to give in to the dread I felt.

"I _asked_, who are you?" Michael repeated, moving closer to Edward.

"My name is Edward," he said without an ounce of fear, staring back at the shorter man.

"Edward? Well, _Edward_, what are you doing talking to my girl?" Michael demanded, now standing only two steps away from him with hands on his hips, fingers curling into fists.

Edward glanced at me at this news, asking me silently if it was true, but I was too scared to answer. I didn't want to see him hurt.

"Don't you look at her!" Michael yelled, now leaning forward with his face barely inches away from Edward's.

"No Michael. Please don't-" I pleaded.

"Shut up, I'm taking care of this!" Michael's fury flew at me briefly before he centered it back on Edward once again.

I looked to Edward, astonished by Michael's behavior.

"What are you _dumb_? Didn't I say not to _look_ to her?" Michael yelled as he reached for Edward, grabbing his shoulders, and then slammed him against the stone wall.

"NO!" I screamed racing forward to try to intervene somehow, but what I saw next stopped me.

Edward placed his hands on Michael's face and pushed back. Michael shouted in agony and fell onto the road grabbing at his face.

I looked up at Edward to see his expression of shock as he watched Michael writhing in pain on the dirt road. His eyes slowly met mine as he noticed me watching him. They spoke of regret and longing. He whispered my name and then climbed back over the wall.

_Was this a dream?_

As if awakening from a deep sleep, I shook my head and looked down at Michael, who was still on the road, covering his hands with his face as his hollering settled into moans of deep pain. I knelt beside him, disregarding the possible ruin of my skirts and Mother's wrath, and tried to help him the best I could.

"Michael, let me see," I gently requested, taking hold of his wrists and trying to pry them away from his face. It took me a few tries, but when I did, I wasn't prepared for what I found.

Angry red burns with large blisters covered Michael's face and up into his hairline in the shape of two hand prints.

-O-O-O-O-O-

**This will be a short story. Something I had to get out of my head or go mad. **

**If you haven't heard, Spanglemaker9 started her new story called It Happened One Night.**


	2. In doubt

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SMeyer**

**A/N: Many thanks to ScarlettLetters and Spanglemaker9 for pre-reading, as well as to the busy Cher, who took some of her very limited free time to help beta this chapter.**

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

"Thank you. I'll call on Mr. Cullen tomorrow to see if he has anything to help with Michael's wounds. Good night," Father said as he closed the front door on the messenger that stopped by to let us know of Michael's situation.

A flutter went through my heart as the decision to approach Mr. Cullen, a supposed doctor and scientist if the rumors were true, for help spoke of how serious Michael's situation was. No one _ever_ sought the Cullens for anything.

I waited in the front parlor, right off the foyer to see if I could hear anything of what had happened since I arrived back in town a few hours ago. Doc Black had met us on the way in and took Michael directly to his office. I tried to go with him, but was quickly dismissed and told to go find my father, who was the local sheriff, for his aid.

Whatever had transpired since that time seemed to cause my father a lot of worry. Father looked truly perplexed as he rubbed his hand across his tired face. I didn't blame him; I felt the same way.

"Father?" I asked from my tense position on the couch.

"Bella? What are you doing still awake?" he asked, surprised to see me.

"How is Michael?" I asked eagerly.

It appeared that he was going to refuse to answer me, but then glanced around before asking, "Where is your mother?"

"She's upstairs."

He came to sit beside me on the couch and gave me a searching look that scared me a little.

"Bella? You want to tell me what happened this afternoon?"

I told him about taking the back road and meeting Edward Cullen, then Michael's reaction to him, leading to the strange injury. Father said nothing as he thought over what I told him, occasionally shaking his head, trying to understand what he was hearing.

Even though I witnessed the confrontation, I was no closer to understanding Michael's burns either. Edward had only used his hands, his _bare_ hands, when he pushed Michael. So, how were his injuries possible?

The only person who could answer that question was Edward, but was it safe for me to go back?

Whether it was or not, I needed an explanation.

_But first…_

"Will you arrest Edward Cullen?" I asked tentatively, not liking the thought of the man sitting in a jail cell for his actions, even if it was in defense.

Father shook his head noncommittally and sent me to bed with a warning to walk with my other schoolmates for the next few days since the main road was still not completely safe to use. I nodded my head and agreed to his request all the while hoping he wouldn't see my fib, or the crossed fingers behind my back.

-O-O-O-

The next day, I was accompanied by a few other students to the school. Conversations were focused on Michael. Word about his injuries had spread quickly through our small town along with the different variations of how he received them.

"I heard he was beaten by _four_ big men that live in Cullen house!"

"No, no, no…it was twelve! Then they held him down and put hot pokers on his face…"

They tried to include me in the conversation, knowing that I was involved somehow. They painted me as a delicate damsel, needing Michael to come rescue me, in their tall tales.

The reactions of the others drinking it in like it was truth made me angry. They stopped pestering me after I showed no sign of wanting to partake of their fantastical romances. Besides, they would just make up my part in their version anyway with or without my input.

_Such children._

I was thankful that I only had to be with them another few months before I was finished with the local school. Father promised that I could move East to live with my Aunt for a year to continue my schooling in hopes to become a teacher.

Annoyed, and feeling a headache beginning, I slowed my steps, letting the others pull ahead of me. All of them were so invested in the stories that they didn't notice my absence.

The distance widened as we reached the Cullen Estate. All the others ran ahead, as if they were running from the four, _no_ twelve, men that had supposedly beaten Michael the day before. It was a relief when they disappeared around the bend and I could hear nothing more of their voices.

I stopped completely and looked up at the tall, vine-covered wall next to me. A part of me hoped to see Edward sitting at the top, smiling down at me, but I saw nothing except a pair of birds pecking at the dead parts of the stems for their nests.

Feeling strangely disappointed, I hurried along the road to the school house.

-O-O-O-

The tales didn't end once our classes started; they only intensified. Whispers hung in the air when the teacher's back was turned, and the lunch break consisted of louder versions.

The school day ended with the others running back to town, claiming the need to call on Michael to see about his health. I walked at a slower pace behind them, grateful knowing that I was forgotten.

Guilt at disobeying my father swam before me. I had never gone against his wishes and felt bad about what I was about to do, but my curiosity about Edward was stronger.

As I approached the corner of the wall of the Cullen property, I slowed my steps even more. Glancing upwards I felt the same frustration from earlier that Edward wasn't there.

I moved closer and placed my hand flat against the cold surface. Almost instantly I heard the whisper of my name surround me as a breeze ruffled the vines along the wall, creating a soft scraping noise that mimicked the voice. It was the same noise as yesterday, just before Edward appeared.

The call of my name scared me, and dread filled my heart as I second guessed my actions.

_What is happening? What am I doing here? I'm alone._

_Who is calling my name?_

"Bella?" I heard louder this time. I jerked my head up and saw Edward sitting on top of the wall smiling down at me. Without thinking I smiled back at him, feeling my heart leap inside me.

Edward climbed down to stand next to me, the smile not once leaving his face. My cheeks felt warm as his green eyes danced across my features. His smile became wider as he raised his hand as if to touch the blush that resided there.

Remembering Michael's burns I gasped and backed away.

"Edward?" I asked uncertain about what his touch could do. "What happened?"

His smile faded, and he looked almost sad as his hand fell to his side. He stared at the ground, shuffling his shoe along the dirt and rocks. I kept silently hoping he would tell me without having to prompt him, but the silence lingered.

"Please…" I begged, a mere whisper.

His melancholy gaze slowly rose to meet mine. "I don't think I should tell you."

"Why?"

"You may not like me after I do," he replied, sounding so sad and lost.

My heart hurt for him. I felt the strange need to offer him comfort, wanting to see him smile.

"I came back because I wanted to know the truth…I wanted to know more about you," I said, finishing shyly.

The strain in Edward's face lessened, and I saw hints of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He looked hopeful at my words.

"I'm glad you came back," he said quietly.

I felt my blush return, pleased that Edward had wanted to see me again. A part of me knew this was wrong, as I knew nothing about him except for a disastrous short introduction. I knew that I could be in danger, that I could end up hurt like Michael, but the smaller voice inside me wanted to stay here with him.

"Will you tell me how you burned Michael?" I asked, breaking the spell.

Edward sighed loudly as he looked back at the ground uncomfortably. "I'm not like other people. I have a condition," he blurted, watching intently through his lashes for my reaction to his words.

"A condition? Are you ill?" Concern crept back in to my feelings.

"Not exactly, but it keeps me away from the public," he said fidgeting, moving his hands from his trouser pockets to clasp behind him, then back again.

"Is it because of, well, things like what happened with Michael?"

Shame covered his features. "Yes," he sighed again.

"How?" I spoke softly, feeling faint, knowing that I hadn't imagined anything and this was real.

"With my touch."

"What are you?"

He laughed without humor and then said with bitter sincerity, "I'm poison."

-O-O-O-

I ran home thinking about Edward's revelation. Nothing made sense. Edward walked and talked like a man in perfect health. What was his condition? How _did_ he burn Michael with his touch? Edward called himself poison. Was that what made the burns? Was he what he claimed to be: a poison, like the wild ivy that grew in the forest?

Edward had climbed back over the wall without a goodbye. It felt like it was a final parting by the way he moved away from me, like _he_ was the one who was afraid. Again my heart throbbed at the thought of him being in pain. I didn't think of him as dangerous or strange anymore, just scared and alone as someone who desperately needed a friend.

"Miss Bella! Your mother was just asking about you!" our family maid hissed as she saw me approach the back door of our house.

"Coming! I've just been busy with school work," I answered, nearly out of breath as I rushed into the kitchen where I could smell fresh bread waiting to be served.

"All that learning." She shook her head of graying hair at me.

She was like Mother in many respects as to what a woman's place in the world should be. A woman should be a support to her husband and know only womanly things like sewing, how to host a tea or dinner party, and above all look perfect while doing so. I think it was more that she adored my mother, as she had been with her since before I was born, and would take her word as gold.

I said nothing as I washed my hands in the waiting bowl of water she left for me on the countertop next to the sink. I was more worried that I would be caught in my deception than another argument about equal education for women.

"Miss Bella, are you feverish?" she asked next to me, giving me an odd look.

"I'm fine. I just ran home," I said, glancing away from her curious eyes and concentrating on cleaning my hands.

"Hm," she said, sounding unconvinced, and then let out an annoyed breath. "Well, if that's all, then your mother is waiting for you in the front parlor for your afternoon lessons."

The maid picked up the tray of tea with bread and marmalade for my afternoon snack and walked towards the parlor. I followed behind, composing myself and taking small, lady-like steps as Mother had instructed me.

I took my usual seat across from her on the small chair while she spoke softly with the maid about the evening meal. I prepared my own cup of tea and waited until Mother was ready. As she finished and turned to speak to me, there came an insistent knocking on our front door. The maid hurried to answer the door and nearly fell as one of Doc Black's assistants came barging into the foyer.

"Pardon me, Mrs. Swan, we're looking for Mr. Swan," the disheveled man said, stopping in front of her, removing his hat.

"I thought he might be with Doctor Black or at his office-"

"No, Ma'am, he's at neither."

"He said something about the Cullens'. Try there."

The man stiffened in fear at the name, gave his thanks, then left. I looked to the maid, who was still standing at the front door with her hand wrapped around the knob, eyes wide as saucers. Mother was calm as she picked up her sewing and motioned for me to do the same. The maid relaxed and went back to her duties, seeing as my Mother was in no distress.

My thoughts flew back to Edward. An uneasiness gripped my insides. If Father had gone to visit the Cullen Estate to ask for help, would Father arrest Edward for hurting Michael? The town was prejudiced against anything different. What if Father tried to touch Edward and was hurt, too?

I couldn't breathe.

"Mother, shouldn't we inquire where Father is? It might be important," I asked quietly. I didn't think I could sit still much longer.

"He is most likely at the Cullens'…_stop_ bouncing," was her reply as she made another neat stitch in her embroidery.

"Maybe I should go to his office to check?" I pressed with an even voice.

"No, now please pay attention to your French knots," her voice rose in annoyance which ended any further questioning.

I would have to do my best to wait for Father to return home.

-O-O-O-

I was asleep when Father returned late that night. It must have been very late because he appeared tired while sitting at the dining table during breakfast. Mother fussed over him, making sure he had everything he needed, from a hot cup of coffee, to a plate of eggs and toast, to his daily newspaper.

I conceded to the fact that I wouldn't be able to ask Father for details of contact with the Cullens as he and Mother were deep in conversation. Interrupting them now would only aggravate Mother. I finished my own barely touched meal and excused myself from the table to collect my books for school. My parents wished me a good morning with another warning to stay with the others while going to and from school. It made me feel so juvenile to have to be reminded of it at my age.

Walking with the others was just as tedious as it was the day before. The gossip was the same: Michael and his epic battle with monsters from the Cullen Estate. I listened eagerly for a minute when Benjamin mentioned visiting the Newton house yesterday, hoping to hear about Michael's true condition only to be disappointed. Mrs. Newton was letting no visitors at the moment as Michael was resting.

I felt another form of fear enter me as I thought of what would happen the moment Michael started to receive visitors. There would be questions about what happened, questions that would demand details of the fight, details that would lead to Edward's involvement, details that could possibly endanger Edward's life. Michael wasn't known for his complete honesty, but in this case, the unknown of Edward Cullen and the rumors already spreading among my schoolmates might give Michael's words more leverage.

No, I had to talk to Michael first.

-O-O-O-

I convinced Mother that afternoon to pay a visit to the Newton's home with a care basket, telling her it was my duty as Michael had tried to protect me. She was surprisingly receptive to the idea, even pleased that I showed more of what she considered to be more of women's responsibilities in the matter. I changed into one of my blouses and skirts that made me look more mature rather than a school girl of sixteen, keeping the illusion of "proper young woman" intact.

Mrs. Newton was surprised to see us, but pleased. In our town, Mother was considered one of the finest ladies in our society. A visit from her could give status to the recipient. Frankly, I thought it was a lot of hot air. In this case, it meant that a door was opened to me, one that I hope to use to help Edward remain safe.

Mother and I were ushered into the Newton's small front parlor. I kept up my charade, complementing Mrs. Newton on her home and ornaments to offering to assist with serving tea. After we were situated on a worn green settee, I let Mother lead the conversation, asking as delicately as possible about Michael's condition.

Mrs. Newton's face fell, and I saw the beginning of tears in her eyes. I felt horrible that my purpose of the visit was more about how to protect Edward than wanting to offer aid to Michael. Still, I was here and needed to see it through.

"Mrs. Newton, I'm sorry about Michael's injuries. I wanted to come by to inquire after his health and to offer my help as he had received his injuries in trying to protect me."

_Fingers crossed._

Mrs. Newton looked pleased…very, _very_ pleased by my comment. I could almost see the workings of her mind as to how this would be an advantage to her.

She sat up a little straighter in her chair, smoothing the fabric of her skirt before she acted put upon by her son's condition.

"He's been badly hurt, but he's a _strong_ young man. Knowing Michael, he'll be back to full health soon."

Her mix of false vulnerability and how she put forward her son made it perfectly clear what she was thinking.

I was disgusted.

"May I visit with him so that I may thank him in person?" I asked sweetly instead.

"Of course you may, dear. Let me see if he is awake," she said with unbridled enthusiasm and excused herself to Michael's bedroom upstairs.

I turned to Mother to find her watching me curiously.

"Isabella, is there something you wish to tell me?" she asked in an even tone of voice.

It made me pause as I didn't know her temperament. I was afraid that she knew this was a trick on my part. Mrs. Newton returned before our conversation could continue, practically skipping down the staircase.

"You may see him for a few minutes. Your mother and I will be here if you need anything," she announced coming back into the room to take her place once again opposite us in her chair.

I glanced at Mother to see her reaction to be being alone with Michael in his bedroom. She had a slight frown that only I could see. There would be questions later, and I would have to lie. I just hoped that they would satisfy her.

She gave me a curt nod, giving me permission to go. Mrs. Newton gave me directions to his bedroom. I kept my poise all the way up the stairs and down the hallway into Michael's room. As I stepped through the open doorway I found Michael lying on his back, covered up to his chest with clean linens, appearing to be peacefully at rest. I couldn't actually tell as his face was covered with a wet cheesecloth over the burned parts.

I knocked lightly on the wood frame to announce my arrival. Michael slowly rolled his head in my direction.

"Bella?" he asked hoarsely, as if he hadn't used his voice in awhile.

"Hi, Michael. My Mother and I came by to see how you were feeling," I said carefully. I didn't want to give him the same impression that I gave his mother.

I walked into the room that was Spartan in decoration, and sat on the chair next to the bed. Up close, I could make out some of the blisters on his skin under the cloths. It was terrible to behold, but I needed this to go well and kept my face neutral.

"Sleepy…Doc Black gave me some laudanum for the pain…Doc Cullen said I'd be okay and gave me stuff…" he said with a bit of a slur to his speech.

"Good, I wouldn't want to think that you were in pain," I said feeling some relief. Even though I didn't see him as a possible suitor, or even thought much of his short fuse of a temper, I wasn't without feelings for his well-being.

"Michael? Do you remember anything from the day you were burned?"

Michael seemed to drift, eyes focusing and then rolling around to look at various objects in the room. When I thought that he had fallen back to sleep, his eyes came back to mine.

"A fight?" he asked confused.

"Y-yes, you were in a fight. Do you remember what happened?" I pressed, anxious to hear his version.

"A boy…he was hurting you…had to stop him…"

"No, he wasn't hurting me."

Michael's face scrunched up with the effort it was taking him to think with the medicine.

"He wasn't?" he asked, sounding like a lost boy wanting approval.

"No, he wasn't. Your injuries were an accident. You'll be better, _stronger_, and back to your college studies in no time," I encouraged, planting the tiny white lie, praying that he would accept it as truth when he recovered.

The corner of Michael's lips twitched into a smile. Moments later he began to snore, and I crept out of the room. Arriving back downstairs I found Mother at the end of her patience with our visit. Mrs. Newton was babbling about her other important visit from Mr. Cullen, who was the perfect gentleman in her book. Mother looked bored.

"Mrs. Newton, Michael is asleep and needing his rest. Thank you for letting us visit and for the tea," I said from the doorway of the room.

"Oh, yes…_yes_, he does need his rest. It was lovely of you to be concerned about my Michael. I do hope that you'll come back to visit when he is feeling better. I know that you did him a world of good," Mrs. Newton said, laying on the flattery that was making me want to run in the other direction.

Mother stood and gave her compliments, ushering us out the door as fast as she could.

When we were settled in the carriage and out of hearing range of the Newton house, Mother spoke tersely, "Isabella, would you care to tell me what is going on with you and Michael Newton?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

**I've received a HUGE response to this story and it was more than what I expected. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and pimp!**

** ZooeyD created a thread on Twilighted for this story. The link will be on my author's page if you would like to visit. I will leave future teasers for upcoming chapters on that thread.**

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	3. Of These Hope

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SMeyer**

**A/N: Thank you to Spanglemaker9 for pre-reading and to Cher for taking the time out of her extremely busy schedule to beta.**

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

"Isabella, I hope this isn't some romantic notion on your part. When the time comes, your father and _I_ will choose your husband. Michael Newton is not suitable."

She was displeased.

I knew that one day I would be a wife. Michael had never figured into my thoughts of a possible husband. In fact I had never thought much about the bachelors in the town in a romantic fashion. Instead, I found my interest lay elsewhere.

After my first day of school, I became enamored with becoming a teacher. My six-year-old self liked the idea of spending the day learning new things about the world and sharing it with others. Seeing that our teacher was also a woman inspired me to dream of this future. I ran home that day and announced to my plan to my parents.

Mother was naturally horrified, but Father never discouraged me.

Over the years I would talk with him about my studies. It was he that corresponded with his wealthy, widowed sister about my staying with her next year to continue my studies. Mother was at first against it, but then she saw the opportunity of staying in a larger city with better chances of landing the type of man that she approved of for me and our family's status. Both she and my father came from upper middle-class families.

As for the purpose of my visit to the Newton home, I didn't know how much Father had shared with Mother about my encounter with Edward, but I said as little about it as possible. I chose my words carefully, making it sound as if I was trying to emulate Mother's ways of what were our duties to this community, as I had explained before we left for our visit.

"Mother, I agree that Michael is not a suitable choice. I thought it prudent to visit as a way of offering gratitude for his help."

Her dark eyes were watchful. She knew that I wasn't being completely honest but wasn't sure about which part of my story was the lie.

As the carriage pulled up in front of the house, Mother relented and ushered us inside to prepare for Father's arrival for our evening meal. She walked away calling for the maid, ignoring me completely. I slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor; feeling tired all of a sudden. Entering my room, I quietly closed my door and crossed over to my desk where I practically fell into my chair.

The rush of adrenaline I felt from earlier in the afternoon had left me. My head was heavy with thoughts that I didn't want to have about Edward and Michael. I only wanted to think of my plans for being with my Aunt.

Unseeingly, I glanced down at the letters from her. I had been in constant correspondence with her for a few months. She was as much enthused about my stay with her as I was and happy to hear about furthering my education. She had provided many descriptions of the school I would attend along with the museums and libraries we would visit…except the excitement I usually experienced from her letters wasn't there as guilt ate at my chest, chastising me for thinking of walking away from Edward before I knew he was safe from the possible repercussions from Michael.

I wasn't sure if I had helped Edward or not with my visit to Michael. Only when Michael recovered would I know for certain the outcome.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Father returned late again that evening, walking in through the backdoor just as the maid was putting away the last of the water glasses in the china cabinet in the pantry. Mother had retired to her bedroom early, petulant that Father had not sent word that he would miss the evening meal.

"Is she angry?" was Father's only greeting, knowing very well that Mother did not like surprises.

"Yes," I sighed, resting my head against my palm.

He moved over to the table where I sat reading, waiting for him to return home. He sat in the chair across from me at the small kitchen table, resting his elbows on the wood surface.

The maid made a tut-tutting noise, seeing Father.

"I have a plate for you," she said, placing it in front of him, and then moved away from the table announcing that she was retiring for the evening, giving us privacy.

I waited until he took a few bites of his meal before I approached a conversation.

"We visited Michael Newton today," I started, barely disturbing the flame of the candle nearby with my breath.

"He's going to make a full recovery, but both Doc Black and Dr. Cullen believe that he will have some scarring."

"So, Mr-Dr. Cullen was able to help?"

"Yes, he was able to apply a poultice to speed up the healing," he said, before taking another bite of food.

"What about Edward Cullen?"

Father studied me, similar to how Mother had earlier, looking for a clue as to my motive behind my persistent questioning.

"What's this about, Bella?"

I decided to reveal a certain amount of my worries to him. One that I hoped would not give away all of my feelings for the beautiful man I was thinking about all the time, probably more so than was good for me.

"I don't think Edward Cullen should be punished for something that Michael instigated."

"Nothing will happen until Michael is better, but I wouldn't worry about it…Edward Cullen acted in self-defense," he stated, glancing back to his plate. "Go get some rest."

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

The next day, it was safe to take the regular road to school. I was strangely a little sad knowing that I didn't have a hope of seeing Edward.

School held little pleasure for me that day as all I could think of were ways to visit the Cullen Estate.

_I could perhaps climb the wall…_

_No, too unlady-like. Besides Mother would not be pleased if I got my clothes dirty._

_Perhaps I would go in search of a door. There must be one, somewhere. They received deliveries and Father visited them for business._

I could see myself opening the door and reassuring him that I made sure that Father knew what happened between him and Michael was an accident. That he would not have to fear anyone in town…

No.

That was not completely true.

I mostly wanted to see him for very selfish reasons.

He was fascinating. I wanted to be able to sit with him and talk about everything. I wanted to ask what he did all day, what he liked to read, what his hobbies, his favorite color, food. Did he like the boisterous ragtime music or something more sedate? Did he have a favorite hiding place?

And maybe, _just_ maybe, he would like to think something of me fascinating, too.

"Isabella, are you feeling well?" the teacher asked, pulling me away from my daydreams.

"Yes, Miss, I'm well," I replied, feeling embarrassed as some of the others in the classroom started to laugh at me.

And just like Mother and Father before her, Miss gave me the look. The one showing that she wanted to know what was going on in my head. I couldn't fault her for her thoughts as I was her most eager pupil, and I had been acting as a nonsensical daydreamer during morning lessons.

"It's time for lunch. Why don't we take our meal now and be back in half an hour?" Miss announced, turning those snickers at my expense to sounds of gratitude.

The scraping of chairs echoed through the room around me, as bodies rushed to leave the small space for the more immense area filled with fresh air beyond the white-washed front door. I stayed in my seat, letting the others flow pass me, knowing that Miss wanted to speak with me.

She came to stand by my desk and gave me a gentle smile.

"Isabella, I know about the other day from town gossip, but if you would like to talk, I'll be willing to listen."

I know she meant the offer kindly, but I didn't feel comfortable talking about Edward or Michael with anyone when I barely had a grasp on my feelings.

"Thank you, Miss. I think I'm just tired."

"You've been working diligently through your studies. There isn't much more I can teach you," she said, her face filled with worry and pride. "Maybe you need a day of rest. Why don't you spend the rest of the afternoon outside, reading a book for pleasure?"

I started to argue, but she held up her hand for me to stop. "Go and enjoy your day," she dismissed me.

With nothing left to say, I picked up my books and walked into the warmth of the afternoon sun.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

I didn't think about which direction to take as I walked to find a quieter spot away from the noisy lunchtime antics of the others. My left foot sort of moved in front of my right down the path that twisted behind large, green bushes in the opposite direction of town.

As the sounds of human voices dwindled and the drone of nature loomed before me, I felt the tension leave my body. I hadn't completely lied to the teacher when I said that I was tired. I was, except not in the way I led her to believe.

Step after step down the back road, I peeled away my thoughts of the others' expectations of what I was meant to be and reveled in the nice day.

A tingle grew between my ribs as I caught sight of the corner of the wall to the Cullen Estate. My feet picked up the pace until I was running towards the stone barrier and then placing my hands flat against the chilly roughness.

_Safe!_

I giggled at the silly thought. I couldn't help it as all of my dreams, waking and sleeping, had been about this place and the man who dwelled in it. I reached my hands up along the wall and tangled my fingers within the green vines. I listened for any sign of movement from the other side, willing the strange noise to come- _willing_ Edward to come, look over the ledge and smile at me in greeting.

When the sound of nature was the only response that answered my silent request, I stepped away from the wall and started walking along it, letting my fingers drift against the weathered stone. I glanced up, never breaking hope that Edward would appear, but by the time I reached the area of far corner of the wall and the crossroad that lead back towards town, disappointment covered me.

Edward wasn't coming.

I moved back onto the road to return home, but something stopped me in the center of the dirt path, a strange feeling in my stomach. Something that told me to turn back around.

Looking back towards the length of the wall that journeyed further west, I saw that the vines were even denser with only patches of bricks that could be seen.

_There must be a way in if I can't climb over the wall._

_Maybe if I walk a little ways to see if I can find a door…_

Slowly, I walked down the part of the road I had never been before, spurred on by my selfish need to see someone who really didn't know me.

…_or I, him._

The wall was much longer on this side, looking as if it went on forever, like the Great Wall in China. The road was canopied by trees from the forest side, shading much of the path, creating shadows that played with my eyes.

But there was a darker shadow in one of the larger crevices, something that stood out more than the others.

_Was that a door?_

Stumbling over a rock, I fell against the area of the wall near the darkened area to see that it was indeed a door, hidden by vines. Sweeping away the greenery, I found a rusted metal handle and tugged on it. Decayed vines and loosened rock fell to the ground, but the door gave and swung inwards revealing another wall of vines in front of me. Parting them with my hands welcomed the return of the bright sunlight, momentarily blinding me. When my eyes adjusted to the brightness, I was astonished to find what lay before me.

A well-maintained garden with Grecian styled columns, blooming bushes of flowers, a small white, glass building was on the far side, a fountain bubbling in the center with paths of the greenest, lushest grass I'd have ever seen winding through it all.

It was breathtaking. Like something only one dreamed of or read in a fairy tale, perhaps an emulation of what Heaven was supposed to look like; a true Eden.

To my right, I could see the second story of a large house behind massive bushes acting as a wall to this part of the garden. Shutting the door behind me, I followed the grass path towards the house and found a perfectly cut-out arched doorway within the shrubs. Stepping through, I came upon another garden, smaller, but no less impressive, flowing around the large multi-storey Victorian home before me.

_Yes, this is all a fairy tale…who knew that all of this dwelled beyond the wall?_

Voices to my left alerted me that I wasn't alone. One of them was higher, like a woman's voice, and the other sounded like Edward's.

The swell of anticipation returned as I practically skipped past the last of the large flowering bushes towards the voices. I stopped short just as I came round so as not to collide with a tall body standing with his back to me.

"Oh!" I gasped and looked up to find Edward was the person, who quickly turned around at my intrusion.

"What are you doing here?" he asked surprised.

Before I could reply, a woman just as lovely as Edward came forward with graceful movements and smiled at me kindly.

"You must be Bella."

"I-I am," I replied, feeling my cheeks flame with embarrassment for being so impulsive.

_What must he think of me?_

"I'm Mrs. Cullen, Edward's mother. Why don't you join us for some lemonade?" The woman offered her white gloved hand for me to take.

Peeking up into her eyes, I saw an understanding within their brilliance as she glanced between Edward and me, and I felt my blush go deeper wondering if I was so transparent as to my visit.

I looked over at Edward to see him with his hands stuffed in his pockets, watching me with a shy smile on his face.

"Yes, please," I accepted and saw Edward's smile bloom into a wide grin.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

**Sorry about failing in responding to your reviews. FF is yet again making it hard for me to communicate with you. Please know that I appreciate each and every one of them.**

**Looking for something to read? Try Branching Inward by LifeInTheSnow. It's now complete and absolutely wonderful!**


	4. The Feeling Begins

**Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to SMeyer**

**A/N: Thank you to Spanglemaker9 and Cher for their amazing support. I am extremely lucky to call them both friend.**

**To the readers, I thank you for your patience. **

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

Edward sat across from me in a white, wicker lawn chair while resting his elbows on his knees. I watched as he traced the condensation on his glass of lemonade, shyly glancing at me through his lowered lashes.

Mrs. Cullen had quickly left us as soon as our glasses had been poured, remarking how she forgot something that needed her attention in the house. Of course I knew that was a polite way of giving Edward and me some privacy, but that didn't mean we would be without a chaperone. I could feel eyes watching us from the tall windows of the grand house, looming behind me, most likely Mrs. Cullen. After all, I was unmarried.

Edward ran a finger around the lip of his glass one time before he lifted it to take a sip of his drink. My eyes followed his movements, finding each step mesmerizing as the tall glass touched his mouth and the sweetened, cloudy liquid passed between his lips. Now that I was here, I didn't know how to begin. All those things that I imagined us talking about seemed so frivolous, I thought as I observed him.

I glanced up, thinking that I should start with an apology, but found myself being studied just as intently, which struck me dumb.

Some delicious thrill ran through my body. I didn't know what it meant, this feeling of wanting to be sick, and at the same time feeling as if I had the ability to soar through the clouds like the birds in the cobalt sky above us.

A slow smile spread across Edward's face as he continued to match my studious gaze. A connection that I had felt towards him in our past few meetings grew within its small cocoon inside of me. This warmth of protection I felt towards him was more than I had ever felt for anyone else I had met, and I still didn't know a lot about him.

Knowing that I had to say something, _anything_ as I was the one who had sought him, I blurted the first thing that came to mind:

"Have you read anything by Mark Twain?"

Edward lowered his glass, revealing a pleased smile.

"Yes…yes, I have. I'm reading _The Prince and the Pauper_."

Relived that I managed to say the right thing, I leaned towards him and continued to ask him question after question about the book, which led to more questions about other safe topics. In turn, he asked me questions about my life. When I started with brief answers, he'd questioned me more, wanting details, such as the exact view from my bedroom window to the color ink I used to write my letters. Did I prefer apricot preserves or butter for my toast in the morning? How did I take my tea?

All little details, perhaps silly to most, except that the look on his face and his demeanor told me that it meant something to him, that _I_ held his interest. Encouraged, I continued with my descriptions until conversation turned towards my plans with my aunt. A veil of melancholy lowered over his features, which brought a halt to my words.

Silently, Edward leaned back in his chair, looking dejected. I couldn't help but feel responsible for his mood as it was my words that created his unhappiness.

Thinking over what I had said, a thought came to mind. Something that made me nervous to ask, but something that might answer some of the more burning questions I had about Edward's life.

"Edward…do you ever leave this place?"

"I…sometimes, but not that far," he responded in a quiet voice, looking down at his now empty glass with disgust.

"I've never seen you in town…" I commented but stopped as Edward seemed to retreat even further into himself.

The depressive tension in his body was palatable from where I sat. I reached out to touch his hand, but he flinched backwards out of reach.

"Please don't touch me!"

Remembering myself, I sat back and clasped my hands in my lap. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean, that was forward of me. I'm sorry," I apologized, worried that I had truly upset him and would be promptly asked to leave and never welcomed back.

"No…_no_, don't," he said shaking his head, looking at me with such sadness. "We can't touch…_I_ can't touch you. I would hurt you and I don't think I could bare that."

"How?" I asked him, wanting to know his truth.

He took a deep breath and then returned his gaze to mine. I tried to show him that I was sincere. Edward shrugged his shoulders once and then quietly rose from his chair asking me to follow him with an acquiescent look. I quickly got up and followed his tall form into the larger area of the garden towards the small glass building.

Edward said nothing as his long strides caused me to run after him, which posed as a challenge in my skirts. He reached the structure that looked as if it was stuffed with leaves from the outside and unlocked the door, pulling it towards him almost violently. He stared intently at the ground practically vibrating with darker emotions, waiting for me to approach and precede him into the building,

I wanted to touch him in reassurance, to offer him comfort for what he was feeling. It hurt me to see him filled with such self-hatred.

"Edward?"

"Go inside," he ordered in a low voice, waving his hand towards the open doorway.

Instead of pressing him, I did as he asked and stepped through the wooden frame into the warm room.

There were long tables against each glass-paneled wall filled with plants, flowers, and fruits that I had never seen before. I slowly walked along the narrow pathway between the tables to get a better look at some of them, especially the flowers. I came upon one that had unique petals that spread outwards like a child's drawing of a star with brown spots all over it. As I drew closer, I heard the door shut and jumped in fright.

"Don't touch that!"

Turning, I saw Edward leaning against the door several feet away, watching me.

"Why did you bring me here? What does this place have to do with you?" I asked, immediately feeling the moist heat press on me.

"This is what I am," he said.

"I don't understand."

"My mother and father tried to have children for a long time, but were unable to. Father was, _still_ is a brilliant doctor and tried to find ways of bringing a healthy child to term. After my mother's fifth loss, she became very sick. Father treated her with all that modern medicine had to offer, but nothing worked. Instead he turned to a friend of his that was a botanist that suggested making teas that involved the use of different flowers and roots. It was one of those teas that helped her."

I listened to his voice as it started at a mere whisper and built with emotions from anger to worry. Everything that he told me was important, but it didn't complete the answer I was seeking. I opened my mouth to question, but was stopped as he continued.

"Father left the hospital where he was working and went to study with the botanist that had helped Mother. They had spent a few years together, my father as an assistant, working with plants, discovering their many uses from healing properties to the most deadly of poisons. They created methods of healing physical wounds and illnesses that had stumped doctors for years. When they tried to share their findings, they were rejected. The medical board at his hospital told him that his research was that of a mad man."

_I'm poison._

An image of Edward's face came to memory from the last time we saw each other. His answer was cryptic when I had asked him what he was. I realized he wasn't trying to be, but answered in the only way that he knew how without giving in to his sadness.

"I'm sorry," was all I could offer in the face of the deep pain that he radiated.

He shook his head in refusal of my apology. "No…this wasn't your fault. People are scared of what they do not understand. My father's work was not of a man without his senses, but of a man who believed that there could be more than one way to heal the sick. But still…I'm sure there are those that think what he did was ungodly and he got what he deserved in the form of his son."

"What? How can you think that?" I exclaimed, seeing that he believed in that theory.

Edward raised his hand in request for my silence.

"My parents and the botanist left the East and moved to this area of the West to get away from the people who condemned them, to start anew. They settled here in this place and added onto it, including the wall around the garden about twenty-one years ago. The botanist stayed with my parents for a few months before departing to the Orient, as he wanted to explore different plants. Father almost left with him, but found that my mother was pregnant. Mother was determined to have a healthy baby, and with Father's knowledge of plants, he helped to supplement her needs with different teas and foods. She was able to carry the baby to term. When the baby, when _I_ was born, they were happy. Father thought that he beat the traditional method of medicine and had the ultimate proof that botany had its place within it, but it wasn't long before my parents noticed that something was wrong with me."

"Your touch?" I tentatively asked.

He nodded his head but kept his eyes averted. "Yes. I was told that a maid was bathing me when I was about one year, and I burned her- nothing as bad as Michael Newton's, but _definite_ burns. Father worked on a cure for me and was able to control it for awhile with special tonics, but as I got older, it progressed…soon, no one could touch me without getting hurt. Everyone I touched would burn and know only pain..." he trailed off, seemingly ending his story.

I waited to see if he would continue, but mostly I waited to see if I would wake from this strange story that felt like it belonged in a book of fairy tales. When neither happened, I stepped forward towards Edward who refused to look at me. As I came closer with slow steps as if I were approaching a wild animal, he opened the door and moved against the wood table, pressing his body as far away from me as possible. I stopped at the open doorway and watched his tormented features, half in shadow from the large plants next to him, waiting for an acknowledgement.

"Edward…"

He flinched as I said his name, looking as if he wished me far away from here. My heart skipped with dread in my chest from his rejection. I took another step out of the small greenhouse and onto the grass, meaning to give him what he wanted.

Except, I stopped.

My heart knew of something magical and perfectly right in this place. I didn't want to have to leave it or Edward.

"I can see that you don't want me here, but please let me say this, and I will go," I said, unable to look at him for fear that I would freeze. "I don't think you are to blame for anything. I don't think your mother regrets having you in her life…_I_ don't regret having you in my life. My life feels like a map that I'm supposed to follow, laid out for me by my mother, my father, and the rest of this town. The only hope I had that things might be different would be to continue my education, but even that has limitations. W-with you here, in the little time we've spent together, I felt like I mattered as a person and not some expectation of all the others."

At this I heard Edward gasp in surprise, but I ignored it, needing to finish.

"Even when I saw what happened to Michael, I knew that you didn't do it out of malice. I knew that it wasn't something that defined you as a person. I could see that you were more. I don't care about your condition. I don't think of you as some poison or a punishment for your father's work. I think of you as my friend, my _only_ true friend."

I couldn't continue to talk or properly take breath with the violence of my sobs. My heart was free of its words that had been entrapped within it, but it was also breaking into thousands of pieces. I leaned against the door frame to catch my breath, as my corset was constricting my body and making me feel faint. If it wasn't for such a restriction, I don't think I would have been around to hear Edward as he revealed another part of himself.

"Years ago, Father was expecting a package that was being delivered at the post office in town. I begged him to let me go with him. Of course, I stayed in the carriage when we arrived in town. It was a good thing, too, as I had been privy to the sight of the beautiful girl that came skipping along the side of the road, coming into town. She was all ruffles and bows and happiness. She was singing, but I couldn't tell you what the song was about as it was _her_ that caught my attention. I always thought my mother was the most beautiful woman that I had ever seen, but this girl was breathtaking."

Keeping my back to him, I stood listening completely transfixed to his story, his voice, _him_ as he talked about his fascination with a girl. A surge of jealousy entered my veins, not liking that he could be speaking about another, but hope drifted inside me, too. There were moments when I wasn't being watched by the town that I gave into my dreams, skipped down the road and sang…could I be that girl that Edward was describing?

_Oh, please let me be that girl._

"…she stopped skipping and singing as soon as she came close to the first building on Main Street. The joy left her face, her song stopped, and her movements became stiff. I remember feeling that she knew something of what I felt as I watched her continue to walk, passing the carriage and into the Sheriff's office. I felt that she knew what it meant to have to hide what you really were in order to belong in the world."

I turned around to find Edward facing me, standing a few steps away from me, and holding onto the wooden table behind him as if restraining himself from some violent action. His eyes were downcast, as if afraid to look at me.

"I do know," I whispered.

"I know," he whispered back. "Every time I saw you, I knew that you understood what it meant to have to hide; to live only a half-life and to be alone."

He tentatively raised his eyes to mine, shielding nothing of his thoughts or emotions. His heart was all there for me to see.

"I saw you and dreamt of us, together and happy."

Tears flowed steadily down my cheeks, burning the already sensitive skin, reminding me that I was present here and now. My heart felt like it was going to fly out of my chest it was beating so hard with happiness. Edward stood before me as if he were stripped bare with no hidden agenda ready to use against me to do his selfish will as I had grown up with in the Swan household. No one had ever given me such a gift of honesty or choice.

"I don't want you to go, but if this is too much," Edward gestured towards himself and then the plants around him, wet trails flowing down his cheeks. "I will understand. This life is not easy…but if you say yes, I'll do anything to make you happy."

"Thank you…thank you, Edward," I told him with a smile. His words gave me joy, and I couldn't help but laugh with the lightness of it that I felt in every inch of my body.

His expression was hopeful as he saw my reaction. I stepped towards him and placed my hand near his arm, wanting so badly to touch him.

His brows drew up in confusion as he looked down at me, standing motionless as if he dare not take a breath. "Why?" he asked.

"Because…you know me," I whispered, placing my hand on the soft, striped cloth that covered his arm.


	5. With This Love

**Twilight belongs to S. Meyer**

**Thank you to Spanglemaker and Cher for sticking with me on this story. You ladies really are the best!**

**To the Readers: my apologies for the long delay.**

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

The walk back to town seemed only seconds as I was certain that I floated the whole way.

Did I say floating?

No, I was _soaring_ with the birds above me, higher than the clouds, maybe even higher than the blue in the sky. I spun in a carefree circle, right in the middle of the road, happier than those singing birds. Happier than anyone or anything that I could possibly name.

Edward wanted me in his life and the privilege of courting me.

Edward wanted _me_.

We spoke in the greenhouse, making promises about meeting tomorrow, along with tentative plans of Edward speaking with my father. There would be a lot of questions, but I believed if Father saw how happy we were, he would give his approval.

As for Mother…

The buds of romance flittering in my head wilted over thoughts about Mother. Father was more lenient, but Mother was solid oak in her decisions. This would not be easy.

_Remember Edward. He is worth everything._

Calming my breath, I walked the rest of the way to the house. I entered through the rear door to find the maid with her back to me, pouring hot water from the hot kettle into Mother's favorite porcelain tea pot.

"Wash your hands and then go to your mother," the maid said without even turning away from her task.

I didn't reply but did as I was asked, once again gathering myself behind my mask of proper daughter. Letting the shackles weigh me back to the reality of my life. As I stepped into the parlor, I found Mother sitting in her usual spot, outwardly calm, embroidering. She paid me no mind, so I took my spot nearby and picked up my own needlework.

Mother continued to run her needle in and out of the Irish linen, working on the lighter petal of the flower before her as if no one else was in the room.

A tingle of cold ran through me, as if a goose stepped over my grave, from her silence. I worried that my time with Edward had been found out before I had a chance to speak with Father. I had hoped that he would be able to pave the way to accepting us.

"Why are you late, Isabella?" she finally spoke. Her voice was in her normal lilt; concise in rhythm, but laden with something harder and most definitely cold.

"I lost track of time," I offered quietly.

"Hmm," she hummed in a noncommittal response.

Silence sat between us along with the growing tension of guilt in my head. Mother was not one to forgive easily, and the thought of what she would demand of me for the lesson made me nervous.

The maid came in with the tea and snacks, ignored by Mother as she continued to sew like she didn't have a care in the world. Of course that outward demeanor meant nothing if you knew her. It meant that she was planning. I poured the tea but didn't have the appetite to consume it; I was too emotional.

She gave a small sigh after what felt like an eternity in my mind. My body straightened, ready for the blow she was about to give but was surprised when it didn't come.

"We have very little time left together for me to teach you all that you need to know. I expect you to be here promptly after school. In two months you will be leaving for your Aunt's home. I expect you to have some semblance of decorum while you are there."

I looked at her in surprise.

She finished her stitch, placed the loom on her lap with her hands folded on top and pierced me with her disappointed gaze.

_There it was._

"I'm sor-

"I_ expect_ you to be the best representation of what the Swan name stands for in society. There are families that your aunt will introduce you to that you are _expected_ to impress. _We_ expect you to make a good match," she finished, resuming her embroidery.

With a dry throat, I simply nodded and started my own with shaking hands.

-o-o-o-o-

I was sent to bed without dinner as punishment, which meant no time to talk with Father.

Alone in my room, I went over in my head what Mother had said, swallowing tears. My lessons were really to prepare me to be a society wife and Mother had revealed that Aunt was in agreement. My "schooling" in the East was not about what I wanted, but what _they_ wanted. I mentally felt the weight of a marriage band with silken, embroidery threads being placed around my ankles and wrists.

My thoughts turned to Edward and how happy I was that afternoon.

I had never felt such a joy before in my life than when I was with him. His life was also limited in its architecture, but when we were together, all felt like it was right. _We_ were right.

Tomorrow, I would have to talk to Edward about Mother and her expectations.

-o-o-o-o-

I went to school the next morning, knowing that I would escape at lunch to see Edward. During academic lessons, I was the perfect student, giving away nothing of my innermost thoughts. I answered questions and finished my work quickly.

As soon as the mid-day meal was announced, I worked to keep my movements as natural as possible as I walked out the wooden door to the school yard. Everyone was rushing around me to their favorite spots. Their laughter and good natured tom-foolery emerged as they were released from their school house bonds.

I waited for the perfect moment to slip away to the back road and broke out into a run as I made it around the last bush that hid it from view of the others.

Back to being a bird, I soared towards the stone wall, no longer scared of what it held. Edward was behind those walls. Edward, who _loved_ me, was waiting for me on the other side.

As before, I entered through the back door, which I now found to be cleared of excess vines and rubble. Stepping into the garden, I found Edward standing a few feet away. He smiled when he saw me, stunning me with the brilliance of his beauty. I hurried to him, as he held out his gloved hand for me to take, greeting me with a soft hello.

I placed my hand confidently in his, feeling the pieces become whole again.

Edward pulled me closer, and I placed my hand on his shoulder to keep my balance, feeling the sharp pin-prick tingles on the palm of my hand through the cotton of his shirt. It was the small painful reminder of his condition; one that I welcomed with everything in my being.

He lifted his free hand, also covered with a glove, to run it along my cheek, his green eyes watching the movement with a smile on his lips before turning to lock them with mine.

"Is it mad to say that I've missed you?" he whispered.

"No. I've missed you, too."

His smile grew as he turned his hand to mold the side of my face. "I went to bed last night thinking it was it was all a dream."

"Maybe this _is_ all a dream," I replied, tilting my head to press into his hand.

"Maybe it is…" Edward whispered.

"Then let me sleep forever," I told him, moving to place my head on his chest, feeling the pin-pricks against my cheek and my hands as I wrapped them around him. His arms surrounded me with their warmth and protection.

_Yes, let me always know this feeling._

-o-o-o-o-

We spent our short time together in the garden, talking about what Mother had told me yesterday. Edward was upset and pressed for more details about her, but I refrained from speaking ill of her after all the censure she had placed on me. Thankfully, Edward didn't press instead, he reaffirmed his vow to talk with my father within the coming week.

Mr. and Mrs. Cullen came outside to greet me after giving us some time alone. Edward formally introduced me to his father, who was just as handsome as his son. He was gentlemanly and looked to his family with real love. The family's genuine affection for each other was readily bestowed onto me as well. It was something that I had never felt with my own parents, which hurt, but confirmed even more that my life was indeed meant to be with Edward.

Time sped by us, leaving me with the hushed sadness that I had to be parted from Edward as the sun made its way into the late hours of the afternoon. Holding my hand within his gloved one, he walked me to the door in the wall. We said nothing until I stepped back onto the dirt path. He called my name softly, and I turned to see him leaning against the door pane, appearing to feel the same melancholy as I did.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes," I smiled "Yes, I'll be here."

His smile in response was breathtaking.

-o-o-o-o-

I was on time for lessons with Mother for the remainder of the week. I hated every moment of them, but I knew that I had to bide my time until Edward and Mr. Cullen could meet with Father. During my rare time with Edward, he had mentioned that Mr. Cullen had sent word for a meeting but had yet to receive a reply.

Father was never home until late in the evening. I stayed awake a few of those nights, hoping to speak with him, but Mother was always waiting, too.

Did Father share with Mother the request from Mr. Cullen?

_Oh God, please no. Let me talk to Father first. _

I shared my worries with Edward every day he didn't hear a response. They multiplied when Mother gave nothing away during our lessons. She was quieter than usual and spoke only when I needed correcting. Edward would hush me with gentle touches to my cheeks with his gloved hands, leaving trails of needle-like pricks along my skin. His words were even more soothing as he promised me again and again that he would secure my parents' acceptance.

By the end of the week, Father and Mother had not called me to speak with them about their decision of Edward's request. When I had arrived home after my visit with Edward, I had worked up the courage to speak with Mother during our lesson but was surprised to find that she wasn't home.

Walking into the kitchen, I found the maid sitting at the kitchen table having a cup of tea and reading the local newspaper.

"Where is Mother?"

"She had to step out and said that she would be home in time for dinner," was her only reply, rudely ignoring me after she addressed my question.

I went to my room to wait, as I had nothing else better to do. I should have been grateful for missing a lesson, but I was more afraid of what Mother's absence meant. I paced my room, thinking of all the reasons that she wasn't there:

_Did she go to the Cullens' to demand that Edward drop his suit?_

_Did Father go with her? Would he side with Mother?_

_Would they come back here to pack me up and send me on the first train to Aunt's?_

Pacing and pacing, I walked from one end of my room to the other until the maid came and knocked harshly on my closed door before opening it.

"Good heavens, girl! What are you doing up here? Didn't you hear your mother call you?" she scolded.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry; I'll come along now," I said.

She clicked her tongue at me in disapproval before she turned away and went below. I checked my appearance to make sure that I was neat for presentation and walked downstairs to find my Mother in her parlor with Father. Both were talking in hushed voices but stopped as soon as I entered the room.

I kept my hands clasped in front of me, hoping to appear composed even though my heart was beating rapidly in my chest.

"Isabella, we just came from the Newtons'," Father said, while taking a seat on the couch.

Michael had completely slipped my mind, as it had been engaged with thoughts of Edward. I felt ashamed for forgetting his injuries and rushed to ask about his health.

"He's awake, still in pain, but lucid enough to talk about his confrontation with Edward Cullen."

In her seat next to Father, Mother frowned. My throat tightened. This could not be good news.

"What did he have to say?" I asked with parched lips.

"He claims that young Cullen was hurting you, and he acted in self-defense," Father related, waving his hand to ask for my patience when he saw that I was about to speak. "I know how young Newton works. He's a hot-head. I also spoke with Edward Cullen, and I know that he is not one looking to go pick a fight."

"What does that mean? What will happen to Edward?"

Mother looked at me as one did when they were in the presence of something foreign to them. Her eyes held calculation and questions that were unfavorable.

"Nothing will happen to him. As far as the sheriff's office is concerned, it was an accident," Father responded.

I calmed at Father's words, but Mother's eyes were keen for answers, answers to questions that I felt she wasn't ready to hear from me. I needed Father on my side before I related to her my affections for Edward.

"Let us have some supper," Father said, ending all other matters of the moment.

We adjourned into the dining room, silent except for the movements of the maid serving us. No other words were uttered as Father gave all of his attention to the plate before him and Mother took her cue from him.

I felt absolutely heartsick that all matters were being pushed under the carpet so to speak. I could barely lift my fork to my mouth as I sensed that more than the argument between Edward and Newton was being dismissed. I tried not to think that way as Mother showed no signs of any knowledge of my time spent at the Cullen home, or of Edward's request, but the coldness was hard to ignore.

As the meal finished and whispered words were exchanged between Mother and Father, I felt once again that I had missed another opportunity to make my happiness known.

-o-o-o-o-

"What is it, darling?" Edward asked me, running his gloved hand against my cheek, as I sat next to him in the garden.

I hadn't meant to reveal my sadness over my parents' lack of acknowledgement of Edward's suit. Our connection was too strong to hide my fears.

"I want this waiting and hiding to be over. I feel like this is all we'll be with each other."

Edward pulled me to his side so that I may lay my head against his chest and held me to him in comfort. The skin of my cheek protested the sharp tingles at first, but accepted the pain as _I_ had accepted the pain that meant being with Edward's condition.

"I know. My father and I have asked to meet with him again, but your father was on business," Edward explained.

"Yes, he was with the Newtons."

"I heard and was told that there will be no further action taken against me."

I leaned away from him and looked into the green of his eyes to see if he felt the fear that I did about Michael.

"What is it?" Edward asked with concern.

"You don't understand Michael or even the Newton family. They don't let sleeping dogs lie," I explained, pressing on Edward's chest.

"We'll be together soon. I know you're worried, but we can't think on them. I want you to think only of our happiness."

Edward gently placed his lips to the hair just above my forehead, not really touching, but the feeling was a healing balm to my soul even though my heart was still beating with anxiety of possibilities that could hurt us. I had hoped, even prayed at my bedside before bed, that all would be remedied by now, except things rarely seemed to work in proper order.

"Please, darling. Please try to stay calm. We'll be together," Edward whispered as he pressed another kiss to the top of my head.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Your father wants you," the maid said with a hint of disapproval from my bedroom doorway.

I kept my composure in front of the maid as she watched me smooth my appearance in preparation for my father. Her shrewd eyes on me meant that Mother had not returned from her meeting for the next society function. She was Mother's informant for anything that happened in this house while she was away.

But it also meant that I would have a private conversation with Father. Excitement fluttered in my whole being. I silently prayed that Father would accept Edward and me.

The maid tried to ask me questions as we walked to Father's study, but I heard none of them. When I reached Father's door, I quickly knocked and then entered when I was bade to do so, firmly shutting the door to the room so the maid couldn't hear our conversation.

Father was staring out the window from his chair behind his desk, looking deep in thought. He seemed relaxed as he absent-mindedly scratched at his cheek. I took a seat directly across from him and waited until he was ready to speak.

As I settled, his eyes blinked rapidly as he adjusted his lax position and turned towards me with brief smile.

"It's hard to think of you as an adult, as I tend to still think of you as my little girl, but with all that has happened recently, I knew this time would have to come…"

He paused to look up at me. His features showed weariness with a touch of sadness. I had never seen him so.

"Isabella, you have a formal request for your hand in marriage."

My heart was beating faster, waiting to hear his next words.

"As much as your Mother wants you to go East to find a match there, I wanted you to be aware of the choice you have here."

"Father?" I questioned as I didn't quite know how to interpret his words.

"Edward Cullen has requested your hand in marriage," he said looking to see what my reaction was to his announcement.

"He said that he would meet with you," I replied, hoping that I showed restraint in my emotions.

Father looked at me quizzically before understanding bloomed in his consciousness.

"I had wondered why you were so keen on what would happen to Edward after his fight with Newton. I suppose you have feelings for him?"

I nodded once, scared to show more. Father still had not shown his pleasure or displeasure over the request.

"If you had my approval, would you accept Edward Cullen?"

"Yes," I whispered, heart in throat.

He stood suddenly from his chair and placed his hands in pockets as he walked over to the window to stare out once more. I kept my place, too nervous to move.

"I know you wanted to further your education in the East," he said.

"Edward wants me to continue my studies."

Father turned back to me and calmly walked to his chair but didn't sit. His eyes were focused on his feet and his steps as he was noted to do when in deep thought.

"I like the idea of you being close," he murmured to the floor.

_Please, oh please Father…_

He let out a long sigh and then looked up at me. "Isabella, if this is your choice…"

"It is."

"Then so be it."

I jumped up from my chair, forgetting all lady-like training, and rushed to my Father to hug him. He let out a loud chuckle as I wrapped my arms around his wool-covered chest and squeezed.

"Thank you!"

"I _am_ happy that you will be nearby. The Cullens are good people," he told me as I released him.

"I think they are, too," I smiled freely, knowing that Father approved of Edward.

"I'll let them know tomorrow…_but_ I see that you're anxious to tell them now. Off with you to the Cullens. Be back in an hour," Father relented, seeing as how I couldn't wait.

"Mother?" I asked, remembering her.

"I'll talk to her," he said, waving me out of his study.

I ran out of the room, nearly knocking down the maid, who had been stationed with her ear to the door. I took enough time to make myself presentable before I ran out the front door towards the back road, uncaring of anything else. I had to get to Edward to tell him the good news.

"Bella."

Startled out of my dreaming, I turned to see Michael standing a few steps away from me.

"Michael?"

He walked towards me, and I took a step back, feeling a moment of panic. There was nothing threatening in his step or appearance, including his scarred face, but he _seemed_ different.

"Bella, I was coming to call on you," he said, removing his hat.

Part of his difference was his dress. He was in his best Sunday suit and was properly groomed. His actions were that of a suitor, and it made me sick to my stomach that he would lay such attention on me. I didn't want it.

"May it wait? I'm in a hurry," I said, hedging away from Michael.

His face darkened, and his scars stretched, adding a demonic affect, for an instant before it brightened. "May I escort you?"

He took another step towards me as I took another one back, towards the path.

"Um, no thank you."

"Now, Bella, don't be difficult. You knew I would come calling one day and ask you to be my wife-"

"Please stop, Michael! I can't be your wife," I said, holding my palms out to him.

His anger was instant. He grabbed my bare wrist and pulled me towards him forcibly. His mask of civility was gone, and I was faced with the demon in him.

"You don't tell me no- _what_!" As quickly as he grabbed me, he released me.

I moved away from him, ready to run, but I saw that he was cradling his hand in pain.

"You bitch," he growled lowly as he raised his narrowed eyes to me. "It's him, isn't it? You're going to the Cullen boy, aren't you?"

Scared, I just nodded my head.

He showed me the palm of the hand that was now red as if it had been burnt.

"I-no, I couldn't have done that. No!"

"I'll kill him and that family," Michael gritted out before he took off towards his home.

My head felt light, and I couldn't feel the ground. It was impossible what I was seeing. Emotions and thoughts were pounding like drums against my brain. I had burned Michael's hand. I had burned it like Edward had burned his face.

I was like Edward. I was poison.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

**One more chapter and it's almost finished. I hope to have it for you next week. **


	6. It is Accomplished

Twilight belongs to SMeyer

Thank you to **Spanglemaker9** and **Cher** for helping me make this story breathe. They give me so much and my gratitude to them is immense.

To the Readers: thank you so much.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

_Poison._

The word ran through my mind as I hurried back to the house to get Father.

_But I hugged Father; how was he not affected by my touch? Was he immune?_

I ran up the steps and burst through the front doors, startling the maid.

"Child!" she scolded me.

I didn't stop but went straight for Father's study door and knocked rapidly before opening it. He looked at me in surprise from where he sat reading at his desk.

"Isabella? What's wrong?"

"Father! Michael is going after Edward! I hurt him!" I gasped.

He stood and walked over to me. "What is this about Michael going after Edward?"

"Michael stopped me on the street. He was coming to call, but I burned him. I burned him like Edward!"

He shook his head in confusion. "Isabella, you're not making sense. Slow down and tell me what happened."

I took a breath and tried my best to explain the meeting on the road with Michael.

"I'll see if I can round up a few people to help. You stay here-"

"But!"

"No, you stay here," he said firmly, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Michael is too much of a hot-head, and I don't want you anywhere near him, understood?"

"Yes."

He moved to grab his coat from the peg by the door, but another thought came to mind and I stopped him.

"Father, how come you were not burned when I hugged you?"

He turned to me and looked at my hand grasping his sleeve. Determination filled his features as he gently placed it over mine, skin on skin. He jerked it back with a wince and glanced at the redness that had formed on his palm.

"I'm sorry," I whispered in horror.

"Stay here; I'll take care of Michael," Father whispered with concern in his eyes.

I wrapped my arms around myself as through the windows I watched Father striding towards town. I felt anxious and scared that he wouldn't be fast enough to gather help to stop Michael.

I paced a few steps before I made up my mind that I had to warn Edward and his family. Time was too precious to wait for Father.

Reaching for the door, I heard a strangled noise to my side and turned to see the maid pressed against the doorframe that led into Mother's sitting room. Her face was white with fear and revulsion. It made me a little ill to think this is what I would have to face with my new condition, but Edward had to live much longer like this than I did. He had very few people that did not flinch away from him and see him for the man that he was.

I would be brave for him.

"I'm going," I told her simply.

I hiked up my skirts and ran to the back road, uncaring of anyone who saw me.

-o-o-o-o-o-

As I came to the wall of the Cullen estate, I had to stop. I was winded from the exercise. I gulped in the air as much as I could, feeling the limitations from my corset. I walked around to the edge and saw Michael ahead with three other men, all with various weapons of shovels, axes, and guns.

"Michael!" I shouted with the last of my breath."No! Stop!"

I ran after them, using everything within me to reach them. I couldn't let them hurt Edward. It was my fault for being too curious, my fault for leading Michael into a lie, and my fault that I fell for Edward.

"Michael, stop!" I yelled as I followed. They were almost to the side door in the wall, their shouts turning antagonistic in nature, calling for Edward to come out and fight them.

I felt sick. So, so sick.

They continued along the wall towards the side gate, swinging their make-shift weapons in wide arcs, showing how they intended to use them.

"Come out, _Edward_! We have something for you!" Michael called. His friends snickered, thinking this was one big joke.

Anger boiled within me. Edward's life wasn't a joke by any means. It was a miracle. His father had saved him, giving him a chance to live a full life rather than one spent bed-ridden. The side effects of his cure meant little with all that he was able to achieve and _could_ achieve if he continued down the path he had laid out for himself. I wanted that for him and would give anything to see it manifest.

"_Please!"_ I shouted just as I saw Michael stop in front of the wooden gate that was situated in the center of the wall. He motioned to two of the bigger men to break it open with force. With a few shoves, the gate opened with the sound of splintering wood.

Michael took one last look at me, his face full of determined rage, and then walked through the opening with the others following.

I tried to move faster, terrified that I couldn't see Michael, couldn't see what he was doing, couldn't have the ability to stop him. When I reached the broken gate, I stopped as everything went quiet except for the laboring sound of my breathing. Michael and his group were nowhere in sight.

Where were they? Everything was too quiet.

It was then that I heard a feminine scream coming from the direction of the house.

I ran down the stone pathway, hearing the screams continue. As I reached the back patio, I saw that the backdoor leading into the kitchen was wide open. Sounds of breaking glasses and china were intermixed with screaming.

"Michael, stop!" I called as stepped inside the doorway. The place was an absolute mess; one of the men continued to add more to the destruction while the cook lay unconscious on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I yelled.

The man who turned to me was Tyler, my old school mate who had graduated with Michael the year before. His blue eyes were filled with a manic glee rivaling that of Michael's. Some sense returned to him as he noticed it was me.

"Bella? You need to go home. We're taking care of things here," he said with a hint of pride in his voice that only made me want to be sick.

"Please, Tyler. Please help stop this. This isn't right," I pleaded as I walked carefully through the broken plates towards him. "The Cullens have done nothing wrong. What happened with Michael was an accident."

He looked uncertain for a second, but then I saw the darkness return to his eyes. He shook his head at me. "Bella, you need to leave. Like I said, we'll take care of this," he said then took me by the arm and pushed me out the door, locking it.

I pounded my fists on the wooden frame, alternatively shouting for Tyler to let me back inside and to stop what he was doing. He paid me no mind as I watched him through the window; he walked out of the kitchen, through the butler's pantry, and into the dining room. When I saw that he wasn't going to listen, I looked for another way to get into the house. Next to the bench that rested under the main kitchen window was a metal water pail meant for the garden. I picked it up and swung it against the glass. It broke with ease, and I reached my hand through the empty wooden pane to unlock the door.

As soon as I was through, I hurried over to the cook. She was bleeding at her temple, but otherwise breathing steadily. Relief was brief as I heard more yelling and screaming, followed by the sound of something heavy falling.

I pushed through the pantry and into the dining room to see more of the destruction Michael left in his wake, creating a trail of priceless pieces of art ripped apart. I followed the trail like breadcrumbs into the front parlor where I saw Edward standing with his mother before the tall marble fireplace as Michael and his three men blocked their way from escape.

"You think you can get away with hurting people, disfiguring them, without paying the piper?" Michael asked, his back facing me as he took another step closer to Edward and his mother, both of their faces a mix of fear and anger.

"Leave my house at once!" Mrs. Cullen demanded, boldness momentarily outshining her trepidation before one of the men swung his shovel near her head. She cringed closer to Edward in response.

"Please, Michael, stop what you're doing. This isn't right," I said, approaching him like I would a wild animal.

"Bella, leave-" Edward said, putting his mother behind him, his green eyes wide in alarm.

"_Bella, leave_. No, Bella, stay! See what I'm about to do to those who need to be punished," Michael mocked Edward's voice and then turned to me, yelling.

The look on his face scared me. There was nothing there of the boy I grew up with these past sixteen years. His eyes held no mercy or forgiveness. Before me stood a stranger, a stranger that had the very worst of intentions, intentions that would lead to someone's death.

"Think, Michael. Please think about what you are doing. You could go to jail for this," I took a step closer, trembling.

Unfortunately it was the wrong thing to say. His eyes hardened, cold with hatred, and he raised his pistol, aiming in the direction of Edward.

"I'll be doing the world a service," he said with icy venom and fire dripping off his tongue before he pulled the trigger.

"NO!" I screamed pushing through the men to get to Edward. They gave no resistance as I stumbled through their bulking presence to kneel beside the now prone bodies of Edward and his mother.

"Edward!"

"Mother," Edward said brokenly as he cradled the slight form of his mother's body to him, placing his hand over the spreading patch of wet crimson on her side. She was unconscious but still alive. I ripped off a piece of my petticoat at Edward's request and handed it to him to place on the wound, applying pressure.

"You got the woman!" I heard one of the men say, unease trickling into his voice.

"She birthed the bastard. I'd say good riddance," said another.

"Bella, get out of the way." Michael said, aiming his pistol once again, this time directly at me as I blocked Edward with my body.

"Bella, _run_. Go get help for my mother," Edward whispered, turning his sad eyes to focus on mine.

"I'm not leaving you," I told him, raising a hand to touch his cheek.

"I don't want you here when-"

I shook my head at him, refusing to move.

With a violent tug to my hair, I was thrown back, and I hit my head on the hardwood floor. I lay stunned as pain radiated through me. My vision doubled, and the sound of yelling echoed like sharp knives stabbing inside my head. When my sight cleared I saw two of the men trying to grab a struggling Edward. As one of his bare hands touched Edward's skin, he screamed in pain.

"Don't touch his skin!" Michael yelled. "Put your gloves on!"

Feeling dizzy, I tried to sit up but only managed to turn over and prop myself up on my hand. Everything was in a whirl, colors moving fast, my ears ringing with chaotic sounds of fighting.

Then I heard it: the cocking of a pistol.

My heart froze, and ice stiffened my veins.

_No._

Edward was pressed up against the bookshelf on the side of the fireplace. The two men now had a firm hold on him. The larger one had his roughened gloved hand around Edward's throat as the smaller one, who had been burned, was pushing against his chest and legs. Edward stared at Michael with no fear for what was about to transpire; in fact, he seemed completely calm as the weapon was raised and pointed at his head.

_No._

Crawling towards Michael, who stood a few feet away with his back to me, I reached out and grabbed his leg just as he fired another round. His arm jerked, and the bullet hit the shorter man in the side of his face.

"God dammit!" Michael screamed as the shorter man released Edward and clutched at his bleeding wound. Tyler was stunned that his friend was the one that was shot and absently loosened his grip on Edward.

The next few moments seemed to move at a snail's pace from my position on the floor.

Edward was able to throw Tyler off-balance, sending him towards Michael, causing them to lose their balance and fall to the floor next to me. I rolled away before one of their larger bodies could crush mine.

"Bella!" Edward whispered urgently into my ear. I looked up and saw him reaching for me. I grasped his hand and let him pull me to a standing position. His hands turned me to the front door with my back pressed to his chest. "Please, go get help," he said, walking us quickly to the exit.

He pulled open the door just as the bang of the gun echoed through the room. I screamed in fright.

"Get back here!" Michael roared.

I turned in Edward's arms, to see that Michael was standing in the middle of the room, gun cocked and pointed at us. Edward tried to push me behind him, but I held firm, hoping that I could shield him in some way.

"Michael, don't-"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH! You've made your choice. You die with him," Michael sneered, tightening his arm in preparation.

"Your argument is with me. Let her go, and I will give you what you want," Edward said calmly.

"She had her chance."

Then a gun fired.

I screamed, pulling Edward closer, waiting for the painful impact of the bullet, but it never came. Frantically, I glanced up at Edward, sickened at the thought of what I would find, but he was looking at Michael in shock.

I turned my head and saw the smoking, black hole in the center of his forehead. His stance was the same, with raised arm and gun ready, except his eyes were wide and staring into nothingness. Michael fell to his knees and then face forward, dropping the gun that spun across the floor.

"Wha-what?" I asked, starting to shake.

Edward answered the rest of my unspoken question. "Dad?"

I whipped my head in the other direction and saw Dr. Cullen standing in the foyer with a revolver aimed at one of the men.

"Edward…your mother?" the doctor asked, his handsome features ashen.

"She's alive, but hurt."

His shoulders relaxed, but he didn't take his eyes off the other men. "Please carry her to my office. Bella's father is not far behind," his voice rivaled Edward's in its calming tone.

I moved to help Edward with his mother, opening doors as he directed me through the house to a back room filled with books and medical supplies. He laid her on a long wooden table on one side of the room and immediately went to work on trying to remove the clothing from her limp frame with shaking hands.

"Edward, I'll do that," I said quietly, placing my hand on top of his.

He nodded once and moved away. My heart was hurting for him, knowing that he had to see his mother this way. I quickly went to work on removing her blouse, corset, and skirt leaving her shift in place to give her some modesty. The sight of her blood spreading on the white cotton made the bile rise in my throat. I was distracted by the sound of approaching feet and turned to see Doctor Cullen, being followed by Doc Black, who was carrying his medical bag, rush into the room.

I instinctively backed away from the table to allow them to take care of Mrs. Cullen. I glanced around the room, looking for Edward, who was approaching with a basin of water and clean towels.

"Thank you, Edward," was Doctor Cullen's only reply as he began to remove his coat and roll up his sleeves. His face set in purpose.

Edward brought another bowl of water for Doc Black and then motioned for me to follow him out the door. Back in the hallway, Edward grabbed my hand and led us out into the private garden, into the sunshine that beamed down its warm rays of light onto the blooming flowers that surrounded us with their vibrant colors and perfumes. Everything seemed so simple here, but inside I felt so unsure. Accepting this new part of me meant that I would have to give up everything else in my life.

Looking up into Edward's wondering green eyes at our ability to touch without gloves, I knew that the choice was already made.

-O-O-O-

I lay curled next to Edward on the couch as he softly read to me from Mark Twain's "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" in the diminishing light in the small conservatory. His voice wove the tale around me as it had for the last few nights after tea when we had time to be alone without the presence of a chaperone, namely Mrs. Cullen, who kept an eye on our conduct as much as she could at the insistence of my father.

In the garden, after we had left Dr. Cullen, his wife, and Doc Black in the study, he had held me in his arms, relishing the ability to touch me without worry of injury to my person. We comforted each other until Father came to find us.

Father, instead of shunning me with my condition, spent hours learning from Dr. Cullen what he could of the limitations and the advantages I now possessed.

Mrs. Cullen recovered from her gunshot wound, which thankfully wasn't as bad as it had appeared that day a few weeks earlier. She had hit her head on the hard wood floor after she had been shot, adding to the severity of her appearance.

Still, she was recovering, seeming to gain strength every day, enough so that her first priority was to help me adjust to my new life.

The combined efforts of the Cullens and my Father made it possible for me to move to the Cullen Estate, as it was the safest place for me to live. Mother had balked at the plan, choosing to ignore that I had changed, saying that it would be scandalous for me to stay with them as they were not my family by blood. Father had eased her worries and let it be known that all their intentions were honorable and that I would wed Edward.

Mother refused to acknowledge me after that last bit of news. I had never been able to be the perfect young lady as she had tried to teach me to be over the years. A part of me grieved for the loss of contact, but I was rewarded with a freedom to be myself with people who accepted me…especially Edward.

He made me feel like I could do anything and would be by my side, supporting me, loving me through it all. My studies were expanded to include sciences that were considered college level and only for men. It was overwhelming at times, but Edward aided me patiently, along with his parents.

Edward's hand moved from my waist to turn the page and continue with our story, and I felt an odd bereavement from his lack of touch. Then it was back, resting against me and comforting me with gentle rubbing motions. I snuggled myself into his side, enjoying the feel of the vibrations of his voice as he continued reading. It was a bit of heaven during our busy days, one that I hoped we would continue going forward and well into our future.

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

The inspiration for this story was somewhat based on Nathanial Hawthorne's Rappaccini's Daughter, but the main drive came from a dream I had of a lonely boy standing by a wall, longing for a girl that was passing him on a dirt road, wearing an old-fashioned dress. From there, my imagination took off and The Back Road was born.

I am once again, grateful to you for your time.

xoxo TB

P.S. The title of each chapter comes from Peter Gabriel's album Passion: The Last Temptation of Christ.


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